Extinction
by speartherear
Summary: Zombie Apocalypse. The elite all-male survival group known as "The Hunters" try to survive the most dangerous situation the world has seen. Warning(s): Blood (More may be added)
1. A Nightmare

"Oh my God, Wilbur!" A crowd of young males ranging from 12 to 19 gathered around the shaken, bloody boy before them. "What happened?"

"They we too fast-" He coughed and pulled his hand from his arm, revealing a deep, oozing bite. "They caug-" A knife in the neck cut Wilbur off. A few screams rose and everyone turned to face a raven haired male, of age 19. Dead eyes of a strange mix of red and brown, looked coldly at the body.

"What the fuck was he thinking?" He muttered to himself. He was of a decent height, after being such a small child no one expected him to be third tallest, he was slim but fit. Adorned in black he dragged the body out of the abandoned fire house and set it ablaze.

"Another one?" The raven turned to face a tall, skinny boy of the same age, his freckled face had gotten handsome and he'd left his unattractiveness with his thirteen year old self.  
"Yep, Wilbur this time."

"Shame, he was some boy. Good voice on him too." His red hair had been dirty for several days, oil and debris stuck in its curls. "Roger?"

"Hmm?" Roger listened, waiting for a question.

"Promise me you won't get hurt."

"I promise, Jack."

That night Roger had a nightmare, one he'd had so often, he refused to sleep. It was that night, the one he awoke to a blood chilling scream echoing through the halls. Upon leaving his room he'd found the bloody mangled corpse of the maid, Rosie, he'd loved as another sister, clutching a knife she'd used to attack one of _those_. She'd stood in front of his bedroom door, to make sure he didn't die.

"Roger!" He'd heard, Martin the butler came running with his sister in tow, lifting him from the ground he'd wrapped a jacket around his shoulders and placed shoes upon his feet. Jessy carried a backpack in her left hand, holding Martin's with the other.

"Where's Papa?"

"Papa isn't well sweetie, we have to leave." Tears fell from his eyes as he saw his friend lifeless on the ground.

"Why is Rosie bleeding?" It was a question that neither Jessy nor Martin could answer truthfully.

"Can you run buddy?"

"Mhmm."

"If they catch me I want you and Jessy to run, fast as you can, as far as you can. Go to the Merridews'." And so they ran, through halls and forest. Growls echoed through the night and Roger was on the verge of breaking down, too much for a 10 year old boy to understand, Jessy, 5 years older, told him to count footsteps as he ran. Sooner or later the screeches and growls got closer and suddenly.

"JESS! ROG! RUN!" Martin struggled among the leaves with a body, a body without a mind. Jessy whimpered and dragged her brother away. "RUN!"

"I'm sorry." She cried. "Goodbye Marty."

The last thing Roger saw before he was caught by Jack's father was the terrifying, gruesome image of a friend being torn apart.


	2. The Merridews'

When Roger awoke, he forced himself to recall what happened next, he wasn't going to forget why he was here.

They'd walked into a grand house, surrounded by gates, a few security guards here and there. Sitting on a chair in the entrance way was a small, skinny woman with flame orange hair and pretty green eyes. "Jess, Rog, I'm so glad you're safe!" She rushed to the two and pulled them into a motherly hug.

"Mrs Merridew?"

"Yes sweetie?"

"Martin said Papa was sick, why couldn't he come with us?" Roger looked up into her now tear filled eyes.

"Well darling, um, Papa is dangerous now, very dangerous."

"Like the things that got Martin and Rosie?"

"Exactly." The little raven boy stayed silent for a few seconds before nodding. "Jack's upstairs, do you want to go and see him?" Again the boy nodded and Mrs Merridew took his hand and led him up a staircase. "Jackie?" A boy of the same age, although taller, emerged from the shadows from around a window. He'd the red hair of his mother and the piercing light blue eyes of his father. "Roger's here."

"Hi." He whispered, standing in front of his mother. He gave her a hug. "Are you okay?" Jack turned to his friend and gave him a hug too, in the height of all of the terror and danger the night had brought; he shook like a small dog. Roger nodded and looked at the ground. "You are not." Roger shook his head. Small clicks on the stairs could be heard as Jessy came up to give her brother his clothes.

"Sorry for asking ma'am but does Jack have another backpack we could keep Roger's clothes in?"

"Yes, I'll get Jack to fetch it." She gave the boys a kiss on the cheek and slung an arm around Jess' shoulder. "Now," She whispered. "We'll get you things you need now huh? It's okay, honey don't be embarrassed." They walked into the lady's room and Jack led Roger to his.

"I'll give you some more clothes; it looks like you only have PJs there." The redhead rummaged around in his closet, bringing out a backpack of a decent size, a pair of jeans, a shirt, hoodie, and of course some underwear. "There you go; the jeans might be too long though."

"Thank you." They sat on the bed, folding the clothes and putting them into backpacks.

"Father says we have to leave tomorrow."

"We do?"

"Yeah, to escape. All of our servants left already."

"We lost Marty and Ro." Roger whispered. He took his jacket and shoes off, glad to be rid of them. Jack stayed silent and sat cross-legged sighing. Mrs Merridew knocked on the door and peeked through.

"Hey, we're leaving in a few hours, try to get some sleep, Jack can Rog sleep beside you? Jess is in with me for the night." Her son nodded and she came into the room. Giving each a hug and a kiss goodnight, she whispered: "Brave boys." And left.

The following morning came too quickly and in time they were all in the back of a Land Rover, staring out of the window, blood and bodies littered the streets but all seemed quiet.

And that was all Roger could remember, he couldn't even remember how he lost Jessy, or how Jack's parents died. And he hated himself for it.


	3. Codenames

Roger looked over Jack as he slept. He took in the thick red eyelashes and the freckles on his nose. A soft chuckle came out of his mouth and he opened an eye, to reveal a piercingly light blue gaze.

"You know Roger I'm starting to think you're a vampire. I wake up and you're always staring at me."

The raven smiled and laced his fingers in between those of the redhead's. "Maybe I just like watching you."

"But why?"  
"I want to make sure you're safe." He muttered.

"Oh Roger." Jack tutted reaching his other hand up to push the locks of raven hair that had fallen from Roger's ponytail behind his ear, so he could see better. "I'm always safe when I'm with you."

A static filled the room and Jack reached over, pulling out a walkie-talkie Maurice had ever so expertly stolen and reprogrammed. "Chief? It's Code, I.Q's calling." Each one of the boys had a code name, in case of hacking. Jack was Chief, it seemed only fitting to call him that. Maurice, the computer expert, was Code. And then there was I.Q, whom no one knew the real name of. All they knew was that he was highly intelligent (hence the name) and wore glasses (they often heard them drop during calls).

"Right, Raven and I will be down, where's Chaos and Anarchy?"  
"They're here."

"Okay. Thank you Code."

Raven was a nickname more often than not given to Roger when he was a young boy; it had stuck and then became his codename. Chaos and Anarchy were the name of two mischievous twin boys of age 16. They were called Sam and Eric and had a strikingly worrying talent with explosives; they were usually the ones to plan assassinations and such. The rest of the boys had no need for codenames, only ever the ones who got the chance to speak to IQ, which was only ever little Percival, a quiet, plain 12 year old who went by the name Mouse.

"No problem Chief, see you in 5."

The static ended and the two pulled themselves off of the ground and made their way to the pole they used to slide down to the main computer base. It was quite a messy business finding the fire station and removing the dead from its interior, but they wouldn't be here for long. They never were.

"What do you think he's got?" Roger asked.

"Knowing I.Q it's got to be something good."

When, Jack, Roger, Samneric, Maurice and Percival were all gathered in the computer, IQ began to speak.

"Code, is everyone there?"

"Yeah, go ahead."

"Right so, you know how you needed recruits?"

"Yes." Percival spoke. "To help on missions."

"Well, let me introduce you," Two pictures appeared on screen. "To Rabbit and Coal."


	4. An Old Friend

"Is that-"

"Yes it's-"

"Simon." Roger breathed.

"But who's the other guy."

"Code, the info's coming though print."

"Gotcha IQ." He reached his hand over to the printer and pulled out several pieces of paper. "Thanks."

"No problem, I gots to leave now."

"C'ya." And with that IQ was gone and Maurice, Roger, Jack, Sam, Eric and little Percival were left to absorb the information.

"Simon's alive." Jack whispered. He grabbed Roger and hugged him. "Roger, Simon's alive!" He laughed and bounced a little.

The rest of the boys all grinned. Simon Sparring was alive. Imagine that!

"Who's the other boy?" Percival looked over Maurice's shoulder at the sheets.

"Ralph Lawe-Wright. Same age. They seem to be engaged according to IQ's information."

"Really?"

"Simon?"

"Engaged." Roger whispered, smiling. Jack was grinning like a maniac, it had been years since they'd seen Simon. _Years. _To think he'd found someone.

Maurice let out a breath and sat back. "Little Simon. The one who had fits and fainted. A _Hunter._"

"Oh Roger someone's actually alive!" Sam burst out.

"And it's someone we know!" His brother added.

"I know." The raven said. The boys squeaked a little and hugged, unusual behaviour from Roger, but he was too happy not to join in.

Jack was discussing with Maurice and little Percival was in his own little world, not quite understanding what was going on. He'd never met Simon really.

"Umm?" He pulled on Roger's shirt.

"Hmm?"

"Is Simon your friend?"

"Yes, but I was never really nice to him, but he was always nice to me."

"Oh okay." He went back to daydreaming.

Maurice, Roger, Jack and the twins sat in a circle in a dark shabby room, the one that Jack and Roger called a bedroom. They discussed the best way to find Simon and Ralph, IQ setting plans out.

"So, we meet them halfway?"  
"Exactly."

"Tomorrow at 11pm."

"Yes, it's dangerous but it's the only way you won't get caught remember you lot are wanted."

"Yes, sir. Thank you IQ."  
"You're welcome, Code. Speak to you when you have the boys."

"Later."

And that was that. The plan was set. Simon was coming home.


	5. A Family

"Roger, we're leaving." Jack placed a hand on his loved one's shoulder as he stared out the window. It was something that worried him greatly, Roger hadn't spoken all day.

"It's been what? Nine years? Nine years and I was always mean to him. He was so kind to me and I never accepted his actions." The raven turned around to face Jack and the redhead took it upon himself to comfort Roger. "He probably hates me."

"Oh stop that!" Jack wrapped his arms around Roger's waist and kissed his head lovingly. "Simon's a good lad. Not even a lad, he's a man now!"

Roger did his best to smile. He straightened up and took a deep breath.

"I'm ready."

~~~~~~ Extinction ~~~~~

"Maurice, why did we have to come?"

"-If we're just picking Simon and Ralph up?" Sam and Eric sat either side of the tall brunette, who was busy typing away.

"If there's a large group of Stalkers or the police come, we need to get rid of them in mass and quickly. And what do bombs do?"

"Ah, I see."

"Hmm. Let's see the pictures again."

The idle chatter in the back of the rover encouraged Jack to get his significant other to speak.

"Y'know Percival was really worried about you, after you said goodnight to him."

~~~~~ Extinction ~~~~~

When Roger and Jack were at the tender age of 14, along with Maurice, Robert and Bill, they'd come across a shivering bundle consisting of 11 year old Sam and Eric and a hysterical 7 year old boy, who couldn't even remember his own name. Percival Wemys Madison, whom had clung to Roger from the very beginning, dangerously underweight and barely able to walk, the raven had taken on board the challenge of the young lad. They'd found an old farmhouse to hide in, surrounded by dense forest, devoid of the monstrous creatures that haunted their dreams, plagued their nightmares and walked the street like flesh-eating stalkers. That was the name given to them, 'Stalkers'. It was safe, for a whole 2 years Roger had taught Percival his name, how to read and write, fed him and helped him get used to walking again, he was no longer a skeleton and Percival had taken to calling Roger 'Dad', Jack 'Pa' and the others 'Uncle' seeing as he'd never had a family. It was something that deeply touched the boys and Jack had no problems admitting he cried when he heard the conversation.

The redhead sat on the stairs, mending clothes and gazing at the two figures sitting at the wooden table. They were drawing and Roger had pointed to Percival's drawing.

"Who's this then?"

"That's you."

"It's lovely. What's it say above it?"

"Dad." Percival held up the paper and Roger stared at the writing, the mousy boy's primary-like handwriting forming the word.

"Dad?"

"Yep, because you take care of me. That's what Sam say's a daddy does." Innocent as an angel, little Percival reached up, holding his sleeve and wiped the raven's eyes. "Are those happy tears or sad tears?"

"Happy tears, darling. Very happy."

By this time, Jack had Maurice and Bill on the step behind him, Robert leaning on the wall and Sam and Eric clutching hands on the step below.

"Do you know who the rest of them are?" Percival leaned across the table, handing his role model his drawing. It was fair to say it wasn't the best but before the brunette couldn't even draw a circle.

Carefully written above each drawing was a label. Percival had drawn Jack and Roger holding hands with the labels above them reading: "Dad" and "Pa". The labels drawn above three figures sticking their tongues out read: "Uncle Maurice (Spelled Morriss, much to Roger's entertainment.), Uncle Robert and Uncle Bill." Sam and Eric stood either side of Percival, labelled: "Sammy", "Me" and "Erick"; (He didn't know whether to use c or k so he decided it was better to be safe than sorry.)

The boys had gathered in the kitchen and each gave little Percival a hug, glad he'd found a family at last.


End file.
